


pourquoi tu gâches ta vie?

by feistymuffin



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, M/M, Mild Gore, The Fluffiest of Endings, don't worry Gavin's dumb but he's fine, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistymuffin/pseuds/feistymuffin
Summary: Gavin gets hurt and mistakes are made.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 12
Kudos: 296





	pourquoi tu gâches ta vie?

**Author's Note:**

> hey, here's some junk that i finally finished
> 
> enjoy, guys <3

Gavin winces at the phantom tugging sensation on his left side, giving the doctor’s bent head a cursory glance before he resumes staring at the far wall with clenched teeth. Although he knows there’s pain he can’t feel it past the anesthetic injection they jabbed him with beforehand, and he’s grateful for it as much as he’s put out by its groggy effects. It’s not his first time getting stitched up and he thoroughly doubts it’ll be his last, but Gavin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the odd feeling of his numb skin being pulled and poked as his wound is sutured shut again. 

As unpleasant as the process is, he still prefers the distraction to what he’s been doing since he got to the hospital: overthinking. Under the morphine’s heavy weight it’s harder to think as clearly, but he’s still cognisant enough to remember what had happened that night and play it over again in his mind for the hundredth time. 

The call was a simple one: domestic dispute gone wrong, an irate husband taking out his anger on his wife for the last time. When they arrived there were already a couple squad cars waiting, the scene recently secured and waiting for them with the husband in question having fled before police arrived only minutes before. Once they were inside Nines had begun to reconstruct the altercation without further ado when he’d abruptly stopped, head tilting curiously and his temple cycling to yellow and back again.

Gavin was running on half a night’s worth of poor sleep and five cups of coffee, and although his patience and energy were both wearing thin he knew better than to ignore Nines when something had so obviously caught his attention. “What is it?” he asked, hardly more than a grunt. 

“I’ve just received a call for a minor disturbance on Lakeview Street and East Warren Avenue,” the android said, looking up, “of a delirious man matching our suspect’s description.” 

“That’s less than six blocks from here,” Gavin replied immediately. Eagerness started to grip him in its tight vice, straining his heart rate into a foxtrot, and in the next moment he was moving from the room past the officers in the living room and out the small house’s front door, Nines hot on his heels.

They piled into his Mustang and then Gavin tore away from the crime scene, pointing his car southwest and disregarding most traffic laws in order to get them quickly to the suspect’s location. They drove for a few short, speedy blocks to his last known location and came to a slow stop beside a parking lot, and then his partner said suddenly, “Detective, there.”

Through the windshield they were looking at an old playground, deserted in the late hour of the day with the sun long since set, but upon further inspection there was slight movement in the murk of the large jungle gym. Shadows shifted suspiciously within the far reaches of the Mustang’s headlights and Gavin, not one for mincing words in the face of action, hastened to throw the car into Park and get out in order to sprint over toward the suspect. He heard Nines following, and when they got close there was a short, human noise of surprise before the dart of a shadow and the scramble of footsteps against the grass signalled the suspect’s flight. 

“Detroit PD, stop right there!” Gavin barked, but predictably their target did no such thing and fled. They made after him and behind him Gavin listened to Nines’ footsteps diverting to circle around and cut him off as the suspect veered around a play structure. Gavin turned the corner and came to a jerky stop when the suspect stood immobile in front of him, a handful of feet away with a glinting blade in his right hand. 

Instantly he reached for the pistol at his hip and directed it at the suspect, snapping out a harsh, “Drop the weapon and put your hands up!” He waited and the man hesitated for a long moment but then Nines came up behind him, LED glowing in the darkness, and Gavin watched the man’s silhouette jump into action again at being cornered. He bursted into a sprint, trying to circumvent both of them by heading towards the empty space nearest to Gavin.

 _Wrong move,_ he thought tersely, quickly lowering his gun and making a lunge for the man. In the milliseconds where Gavin grabbed hold of the perp’s jacket the man turned in shock, knife held at his hip, and Gavin realized his mistake too late.

As his weight collided with the suspect’s body Gavin felt the sharp, unforgiving bite of the blade as it embedded into his side, pain exploding through his gut and wrenching a hoarse cry from his tight throat. Just as quickly as it had pierced him the suspect pulled away and the knife made a hasty exit from Gavin’s body, alongside a weak sound from the depths of his chest. The man didn’t hesitate this time before fleeing, leaving Gavin to stumble to his knees in the grass with a hand pressed to the wound now bleeding freely through his shaking fingers. 

_"Stop!"_ Gavin roared, but it was at least half as powerful now, and his breath whooshed out past his lips on a shuddery, painful exhale as he tried to get to his feet on legs that wouldn’t quite support him. 

“Detective Reed!” 

He heard Nines’ voice clear as day through the static in his ears, and then Nines was at his side like magnetic Velcro, his usually serene blue light now a hazardous red. “Detective, quickly, we have to—”

“What are you doing, you idiot?! Get after him!” Gavin snapped, then grunted hard and doubled over as pain throbbed through his stomach. 

“I’m doing no such thing, Detective,” Nines said quietly, and there was some heat there, too. A strong hand wrapped around Gavin’s arm and his tone, although dry, was tense when he added, “I’m far too attached to you, irritating as you are, to let you bleed to death.”

The sound of hurried feet on grass and then pavement faded away and Gavin’s anger boiled over like a cookpot. “ _Fuck_ your attachment!” he snarled. “He’s getting away!”

The hand at his bicep froze and Nines didn’t reply, only slid an arm around his back and eased Gavin, unstable and bloody, to his feet. 

“Forget me, you asshole, and follow him!” Gavin valiantly tried one last time, but the support of Nines’ body against Gavin’s uninjured side was becoming too important to relinquish, too potent a presence in the moments that seemed to slip away whenever he tried to focus on the details of his surroundings. Nines didn’t bother to answer him anyway.

Things started to get a bit hazy after that, because every time Gavin blinked he had missed more time without realizing. Nines, his LED a constant yellow-red mess, told him he was calling in the altercation and some backup and helped him back to the car, where he sat a dizzy, cursing Gavin in the passenger seat with the door open. Nines bared his chest with one swift motion of his hand latched at the hem of Gavin’s t-shirt and instructed him to hold it up, which Gavin did with bloody, unsteady fingers, and started to administer some crude first aid with the kit in the Mustang’s glove box. 

The first swipe of gauze against his stomach had him blurting out a hissed, _"_ _Fuck!"_ and even through the fuzz over his mind he could feel Nines’ fingers clench at his bare waist where he’d anchored his hand. His touch was cool but still warmer than the brisk night air and the leather seat beneath him, and Gavin focused on that rather than trying to speak or move. All throughout the tense almost-quiet, he was overwhelmingly grateful for Nines’ ginger but efficient treatment as he dressed Gavin’s wound to the best of his ability. 

His focus, usually sharp as a tack when he’s in the field, started really slipping right around the time Nines commented with worry plain in his tone, “Detective, you’ve lost too much blood for my comfort.” 

“Relax,” Gavin breathed, leaning back slightly to take some strain off his stomach, and gave Nines a woogy smile that appeared to do nothing to ease his concern. “You’ll give yourself grey hairs.”

Nines kept a firm pressure on his wound without a response and a wailing ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital not long after that, but when he was expecting Nines to ride with him to the hospital he lingered outside the ambulance doors. 

At Gavin’s confused look all the android said was, “I have to stay behind to secure the scene and finish the investigation, Detective. I’ll have Connor contact you.” It was unfeeling, the words being the most bland that Gavin had heard from his partner in months despite the concern that Gavin _knew_ he could see in those silvery blue eyes, the clear investment that was there not five minutes prior, and then the ambulance doors shut and he was alone with the EMT.

Now, three hours, one blood transfusion and a short surgery later, with Dr. Summers patching him up post-op in the OR and his body blessedly painless thanks to the anesthesia, Gavin wonders just how far over the line he’d stepped. Nines rarely loses his temper or shows any outward signs of getting ruffled when something bothers him, much unlike Gavin, but this time… This time, he’d shut down almost completely once Gavin was out of immediate danger. 

_Fuck your attachment!_ The words sit like stones in Gavin’s chest, robbing him of the ability to breathe easily, and his eyes fall shut with a tiny, pitiful sigh. What had possessed him to say that? He hadn’t meant it, even in the moment when he’d been pissed that Nines let the suspect escape. He’s _still_ pissed off, if he’s honest, but he knows that hardly excuses his behaviour. Even if it was in the heat of the moment, even after being stabbed and eluded, Gavin knows he’s in the wrong here.

Dr. Summers pulls him from his thoughts with a light touch to his bare shoulder and Gavin opens his eyes to see the nurses in the room starting to clean up. “You’re a trooper, Mr. Reed,” the aging doctor says, giving him a sardonic but impressed look as she checks his side one more time before peeling off her gloves and stepping away from the table. “Not everyone can stand staying awake during an operation of this nature, minor as it is. But then again, with a medical record like yours I’m hardly surprised.” 

“Thanks, Doc,” Gavin snorts, shifting slightly and feeling the tug of his new stitches under the fresh bandage. “Can I go home now or what?” 

“Not quite,” she muses. “We’re keeping you for at least two days. You’re very lucky, Mr. Reed,” she adds, and Gavin’s gut drops a little at the serious note to her voice and the equally serious look in her eyes. “That knife missed a lot of vital tissue by millimetres, and that’s the only reason you’re not in the ICU with a ruptured intestine or worse.”

Gavin swallows the dry spot from his throat and nods, and that seems to pacify Dr. Summers enough that she backs off with a smile. “When can I go back to work?”

“That will depend on you,” she replies. “Follow instructions, and you _might_ be back to work in a week—desk duty only.” She gives him a stern look when he opens his mouth to argue. “But if you tear your stitches then you’ll just lay yourself up even longer. Let your body do its job and heal. Don’t push it, and your body won’t push back.”

“A _week?"_ he baulks. “That’s fucking ridiculous, I—”

Summers quirks a grey eyebrow at him and he quiets mutinously, chewing the inside of his cheek to keep himself from another outburst despite his frustration. “A week, Mr. Reed. You’ve been stabbed, and it wasn’t a glancing blow, either. Do yourself a favour and listen to your doctor’s advice.”

Gavin clenches his jaw but nods, a nurse coming to his side to help him down from the operating table and into a wheelchair, and Dr. Summers smiles as she moves to the door. “Get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning.”

* * *

They set him up in a small room by himself and he sleeps like shit for the remainder of the night, but Gavin wasn’t really expecting anything to the contrary since he had a hole put in his side that evening. Rather than his wound giving him grief though, Gavin knows his terrible night of sleep has a lot more to do with his biting comment and Nines’ subsequent distance. It’s been a long time since he’s said anything scathing to the android and meant it but with Nines presumably working the case without him, without even coming to check up on him all night… Gavin’s not sure how to fix what he’s broken. 

After he rouses from fretful sleep around 7 a.m. Gavin lies awake for the rest of the morning, getting two visits from a nurse to give him his pain medication and check his bandages, and one from Dr. Summers to observe his vitals. Everything appears to be in good shape, he’s told as she scans his abdomen with a handheld ultrasound, and nothing had torn overnight. Lastly she verifies with him that his medication is working sufficiently and, after promising to return that afternoon, she departs.

Connor and Hank visit him around noon while Gavin is reluctantly making his way through a tray of hospital food. At the sight of his colleagues his heart leaps and his eyes automatically start to seek out Nines but the lieutenant and his partner are alone, and after the initial crushing weight of his disappointment Gavin doesn’t let himself dwell on it. 

“Detective Reed,” Connor greets with a small smile, standing at Hank’s shoulder as the human sits in the chair at Gavin’s bedside. “You’re looking well.”

“For a stab victim he’s looking like a million bucks,” Hank scoffs. He studies Gavin’s face briefly before he wonders, “What’s the verdict? You _look_ alright, but I saw the state of Nines’ clothes after you were picked up by the ambulance. He looked like a horror movie extra.”

The mention of his partner constricts Gavin’s throat but he ignores it. “I’m fuckin’ fine,” he says irritably, holding in a wince when he shifts in the uncomfortable bed. “Everybody is losing their minds over nothing.”

“Actually, Detective,” Connor says, LED whorling yellow, “your medical records state that your wound is close to three inches deep and narrowly missed vital organs.”

“Yeah, well. I’m fine, alright?” Gavin spits. 

Hank gives him a knowing look. “Nines asked me to tell you that he’s tied up at the station and couldn’t make it here. He said he’s sorry and that he wishes you a speedy recovery.”

 _Meaning what?_ Gavin thinks desolately, nodding numbly to Hank without replying out loud. _That sounds a hell of a lot like, “I hope you get better but I’m not coming to see you.”_ The thought that Nines would rather not see him, even after he’s been seriously injured, might actually hurt him more than being stabbed did. 

“Did you catch the guy? The husband?” Gavin asks, to distract himself and to wipe the sympathetic looks off of Connor and Hank’s faces. 

“Yeah, we picked him up a couple blocks away on East Warren where he was trying to buy his way into a motel for the night. He was pretty shaken up when we grabbed him, too, which doesn’t surprise me one bit. When Nines interrogated him he, er…” Hank glances over at Connor and then back to Gavin, looking uncertain. 

“What?” Gavin snaps, his heart seemingly frozen in his chest at Nines’ name. “Spit it out, Anderson.” 

“Nines had to be removed from the interrogation due to a conflict of interest,” Connor says after a moment, when it’s clear Hank won’t continue. Gavin looks at the android instead, who looks back unerringly, but where he thinks he’ll see disapproval he’s surprised to note that Connor’s smiling. 

“A conflict of interest?” Gavin parrots in disbelief, and then laughs a little. It makes his side ache painfully so he’s quick to stop again, but neither Connor nor Hank dispute the new information. “The hell do you mean? What the fuck happened?”

“I think I’ll let him tell you that,” the android replies, and beside him Hank looks similarly mulish. 

Despite his needling neither of them tells him anything more about the case, and after a brief few minutes both detectives leave him to his recuperation. The way they look at him before they go, like even now they’re still debating telling him something, makes Gavin want to strangle them but he knows it would get him nowhere. Besides, laid up as he is, he thinks he’d be pretty easy to deflect. 

For the remainder of the day Gavin doesn’t get anymore visitors. His phone blips a few times with texts from Tina, periodically asking how he is while she works a double shift, and a call from Fowler, confirming he’s alright. Apparently Fowler has the medical report and spoke with Dr. Summers, but still wanted to hear it from Gavin’s own mouth that he’s feeling well, also instructing him beyond question that he’s not to return to work until the following Monday, which is a whole six days away, and that’s _only_ if he’s feeling well enough to come back. 

Nines doesn’t contact him. No texts, no calls, not even any emails pertaining to the case, and after the sun sets again and Gavin’s given his nightly dose of medication he tells himself to stop hoping. It’s futile, he knows, because Nines has become a significant part of his life over the past half-year and up until the point that Gavin opened his big fucking mouth, they were what Gavin would tentatively call friends. Now? Now he has no idea what they are. He doesn’t even know if they’re still partners, the way things are going, and when he surreptitiously asks Fowler what happened during the interrogation Fowler tells him shortly, “Ask him yourself, Reed.”

Tina won’t even tell him what happened, and by the way she hangs the information over his head like a dangling fruit he knows it’s something he definitely wants to know. Still, he refuses to cave to her or anyone else and when he stops replying to her teasing comments she eases off. He refuses to cave even to himself, to the need that mounts in him the longer he goes without talking to Nines, because he can definitely tell when he’s being avoided. 

_If he wants to wash his hands of me so badly, then fine,_ Gavin thinks to himself as he awkwardly shuffles around in bed to lay on his uninjured side. _I don’t need his shit and I don’t need anyone’s pity._

 _You say that,_ an irritating little voice whispers back, _but here you are, pining for him to just call you._ He refuses to dispute or even acknowledge that, angrily punching his flat pillow until it resembles a boulder more than a cushion, and wills his mind to just shut the fuck up. 

It takes him hours to shut off his overactive brain, and sometime past midnight he falls into a restless sleep.

* * *

Tina unlocks his apartment door for him and shoves it open with a short grunt, hefting the grocery bags in her hands to prevent them from dropping out of her arms before preceding him into the foyer and bee-lining for the small kitchen without bothering to take off her shoes. Gavin shuffles irritably over his threshold and shuts the door, taking a long, breathlessly painful second to semi-bend over and untie his shoes before toeing them off his feet and following her into the sunlit apartment. 

“Jesus, Reed, do you even fucking eat?” She’s got her head stuck in his nearly empty fridge when he rounds the corner, stuffing the appliance full of food that she’d forced him to buy. 

He shrugs before realizing she can’t see him and instead mutters, “I eat, relax. I just needed to go shopping before all of this crap.” At his ankles a loud purring starts up and Gavin looks down to see his tabby Paisley rubbing along his shin. He goes to pick her up and abruptly stops when his abdomen twinges hard, pain shooting through him, and he straightens again. “I hope she wasn’t a total nutcase for you.”

Tina scoffs. “Please, we practically threw a party while you were gone.”

As cats go, Paisley is pretty laid-back so he’s not surprised, but no matter her feline independence she’s still insistent at his feet, meowing loudly for his attention. 

“Alright, woman, damn,” he grumbles, hobbling over to the couch to gently, slowly lower himself down onto it. She follows closely at his heels and jumps up beside him to paw her way over his lap and rub affectionately against his chest, melting a little bit of the hard coating he’s been shrouding himself in the past two and a half days that he’s spent rotting in the hospital. He runs a hand along her back and she arches with the touch, nuzzling into his palm to start the process all over again. 

“She’s almost as pushy as you,” Tina notes, watching them with a crooked smile as she stocks his kitchen. “I’m glad she doesn’t have a badge, too, otherwise I would really worry for the state of the city.”

“Hilarious,” he grunts. “Don’t suffer on my account, please. Feel free to get the fuck out at your earliest convenience.”

“God, you’re fucking miserable without him around,” she sighs. Gavin swallows, heat flushing up his neck and ears, and chooses not to reply as a harsh ache starts up in his chest—an ache that has nothing to do with his wound, that won’t be fettered by painkillers. 

The fridge door shuts and then footsteps come from the kitchen as Tina moves to join him on the couch. Her face, when his gaze lifts, is eloquent in its sympathy. “Come on, Gav. What happened between you guys that he didn’t even come see you in the hospital?”

“Nothing,” is his immediate response. It’s clipped and rough and Tina lifts her eyebrows expectantly, waiting. He’s stubbornly silent, the memory of that night flooding his mind and making his regret flare like an inferno, and eventually she sighs.

“Alright, fine. Stew in your own pathetic puddle of sadness. You’re both fucking hopeless.” She snatches the TV remote off the table and switches it on, channel surfing lazily while Gavin is left to wonder what she means by “both”. 

He can guess, of course. Nines is probably just as moody as him about their sudden shift in dynamic. Gavin knows the android doesn’t enjoy being sassed, although he had foolishly thought that maybe Nines was building up a tolerance to his mannerisms all this time. He also knows that this hardly counts as just sass, that he said something downright mean without thought and without any following apologies and that Nines has every right to not speak to him after something like that. 

Gavin’s phone weighs heavily in his pocket, pressing into his hip with intent and persuasion and begging him to call Nines and remedy this before it goes any further. Tina told him as much while he festered in the hospital, trying to coerce him to make a move despite not even knowing what had transpired. She probably knows or at least suspects that it’s Gavin’s fault since Nines, although blunt and sometimes harsh, is hardly the type to hurt someone’s feelings. Especially Gavin’s. 

In a rare moment of emotional bravery Gavin nudges Paisley aside so he can withdraw his phone from his pocket and taps his way to his messaging app, ignoring the potent look he can feel from Tina and staring down at his conversation with Nines. They’d last been talking about New York, where Gavin lived for a portion of his childhood, and his heart clenches at the words on the small screen.

_I’m sure you’d like it. NYC’s got nothing but activity, lots to focus on at every single moment._

_As intrigued as I am, I’m wondering what your definition of “activity” is._

_It’s the city that never sleeps, loser. Figure it out._

_What makes you assume I thrive off of activity?_

_I saw you at the office party last month, looking all perky while you studied everyone. Face it, you’re a people-watcher._

_Was that before or after I peeled you off of the floor and drove you home?_

_Listen, tin man, them’s fightin’ words._

_I’m quaking in my boots, Detective._

Gavin swallows the lump in his throat and starts typing. _Hey_ is as far as he gets before he backspaces again, grimacing at himself and his sudden awkwardness. He’s never been good at apologies or making up in any sense of the word, but he can at least admit when he’s being an asshole just for the sake of pride.

 _This is Nines,_ he tells himself and inhales slowly, preparationally before he begins typing again. _Just be honest and apologize._

 _I know I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said what I said and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to…_ He backspaces the last two words and tries again, _I didn’t mean to say that but I was pissed at you and I didn’t want to lose the guy._ Gavin hesitates for a long, long damn time with the inadequate message sitting waiting to be sent before he bites his lip and adds, _Sometimes I forget to remember that it’s not just me anymore._

He hits _Send_ before he can stop the movement. There it is. Now the message is out in the open and Gavin has to wait for a response. Usually Nines’ replies are almost instantaneous, the benefits of being an android, but Gavin’s hope steadily sinks lower and lower the longer his message goes unanswered. 

_Well, what were you honestly expecting?_ that snide voice returns to say. He shuts it out but the notion that his partner, someone fully capable of multitasking texting with virtually anything else, isn’t interested in messaging him back makes a sharp blink of hurt bloom to fruition behind his heart.

Eventually Gavin has to put his phone down on the table, too keen with it burning a hole in his palm or his pocket, but it remains completely, frustratingly silent. He feels Tina’s sympathetic looks but ignores them, instead watching _Jeopardy!_ with a false but firm sense of focus that’s more blank staring than it is content absorption. 

Tina calls for a pizza to be delivered around the time Gavin sets his phone down. He did so with the resolute belief that he’s waiting for something that’ll never come, that he’s irreparably damaged his personal and working relationship with his partner, but as he sits scratching Paisley behind the ears while she purrs like a running motor in his lap he refuses to let it go until he’s been given absolute proof. Even so, his hope flickers like open flame, waxing and waning with every passing thought. 

_Jeopardy!_ has turned over to another game show so Gavin switches the channel to the news while Tina makes them a pot of coffee, navigating around his kitchen with the kind of speed and fluidity that he finds himself envying in his current state. While she’s still busy there’s a knock at the door and Gavin nudges his cat aside to gingerly get to his feet and let the pizza guy in. 

“I can get that, Reed, sit the hell down,” Tina snaps, but it’s more concerned than it is heated. 

“Oh, fuck, relax before you burst a blood vessel,” Gavin grouses back. He unlocks the deadbolt and tugs the door open, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket, but his hand goes slack at the sight of not a pizza guy at all but Nines standing in the hallway, looking down at him with the most confusing expression that Gavin’s ever seen. 

“Gavin, I said—” Tina starts again, coming to join him at the door, but she stops dead when she sees their new guest. “Oh. Hey, Nines.” She pauses at Gavin’s side, her dark eyes darting between the two of them, and Gavin feels a flush climb up his chest and neck when her lips start to curve. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Gavin can’t make his voice work, though, and when Nines doesn’t even blink or glance away from him he can feel his breathing getting traitorously shallow. His cool eyes are formidable, which is nothing new—Gavin’s been used to that for a long time—but now they hold an unusual power, skimming over his features as if mapping them, remembering them all over again, and it makes Gavin’s knees feel like they might buckle.

Despite his eagerness to get a reply of some kind Gavin wasn’t expecting something like this, and now that he’s got Nines right in front of him every last thing he wanted to say has left his brain for good. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times before it’s obvious he’s incapable of speech so Gavin forces his gaze down to somewhere slightly safer, lingering on the collar of Nines’ black button-down. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt,” Tina muses into the silence. She disappears behind the door to grab her jacket off one of the wall hooks there, stuffing her feet into her shoes and adding to Gavin, “The coffee’s on, and don’t forget about the pizza.” Gavin blankly steps aside to let her pass him by on her way out of his apartment and as she walks away down the hall she calls, “See you guys later.”

The elevator’s distant _ding_ as its doors open and shut is loud in the hush between them and the noise shakes Gavin from the strange trance, staring at his partner’s shirt without purpose. He clears his throat a little before shuffling to the side and opening the door wider. “Uh, c’mon in.”

Obligingly Nines enters his apartment and Gavin shuts the door behind him, taking a moment to breathe in and out again as he locks the door. When he turns he sees that Paisley has made herself known to the newcomer, perching on the arm of the couch and meowing obnoxiously loud, and Nines stops his slow movement to extend his hand out for her to sniff. She smells him momentarily and then pushes her head into his hand with another short meow, demanding pets that Nines seems perfectly willing to dole out. 

Gavin shuffles to hover in the kitchen, leaning most of his weight back against the counter while he waits for the coffee to percolate. His side twinges with brief pain at the action and instinctively he’s bringing up a hand to press it against the wound above his left hip, and all over again it reminds him of his stupidity the night of the chase. With guilt suffusing him he remembers his attitude in the face of letting the suspect get away, and he barely remembers the lost pockets of time afterward while Nines took care of him even after he’d yelled at his partner so heartlessly. Most of all he remembers the lonely ambulance ride to the hospital and his slowly growing clarity as Nines continued to avoid him. After being away for days, after giving no indication that he was going to express or show any concern he may have over Gavin’s injury, here Nines is without even a ‘hello’, standing in his apartment and petting his damn cat. 

Gavin finds himself torn between indignation and relief at the android’s appearance, lost somewhere in the middle and unable to let go of his pride in order to ask whether he’s forgiven, whether Nines has come here to make amends or demand a proper apology. If he’s honest, Gavin isn’t sure if he’ll be able to deliver one. It was easier to text the words than speak them, and easier still to acknowledge his fuckup without needing to look someone in the face while doing it. Now, with Nines in his tiny apartment giving Paisley chin scratches, he wonders if he’ll be able to have the upcoming conversation without making matters worse. 

Unfortunately the android can’t ignore him in favour of his pet forever, and with a final little pat to her head Nines turns his attention from Paisley to her owner. Gavin’s gut twirls when cool grey-blue eyes skim up his body, pausing lengthily where he still has his hand pressed to his injured side before shifting up his torso to meet his gaze. 

“You look well,” Nines says simply, taking a few short steps until he’s within an amiable distance of his host. His eyes dart down again to Gavin’s hand, brow twitching over his nose before he adds the query, “Are you in pain?”

Gavin lifts his shoulder, thinking intimately of the hospital-grade painkillers Tina stashed in the small cupboard over his sink. The action tugs his wound and he holds in a grimace, but he’s sure the jerkiness of his movement doesn’t escape the android’s attention. 

He pointedly lowers his hand and pushes away from the counter to move to the coffeemaker, which is sputtering out its last drops. The poor machine might be older than Gavin, but it still works like a charm and it makes damn good coffee—leagues better than the dirt water he drinks at the precinct, anyway. 

“I’m fine,” he says flatly, bringing the sugar bowl toward him from the back of the counter. _Nice of him to at least act like he cares, one way or the other,_ he adds bitterly to himself. It’s not true or fair to accuse Nines of indifference and he knows it, but being ignored after surviving a somewhat life-threatening injury hasn’t put him in much of a good mood. 

Nines comes into the kitchen and pauses at Gavin’s side, holding his silence for a moment before he murmurs, “You’re angry with me.”

Gavin keeps his eyes restricted to the space in front of him and away from his partner, but he knows Nines’ LED is whorling yellow with pensive confusion. He reaches up unthinkingly with his left hand to grab a coffee mug from the upper cabinet and stops with a short hiss when it pulls at his stitches. His face flushes at the feeling of Nines’ eyes on him and he drops his arm again, but as he’s lifting his right hand to open the cupboard Nines beats him to it, moving closer and reaching past his shoulder to take a mug from the lowest shelf and proffer it to him.

A hot wave of embarrassment and irritation clouds Gavin’s cheeks and he snatches the mug from the android’s hand with a barely there, “Thanks.” Nines takes a step back, negligible as it is within the small kitchen, and stays out of his way while Gavin pours his coffee and doctors it with sugar.

“Why are you angry with me?” Nines asks him as he’s putting the teaspoon back into the sugar bowl. Gavin can’t help glancing over, and when he does he’s momentarily caught by the frustrated little frown on Nines’ face.

Quickly he averts his gaze back down to his coffee, running his thumb along the handle. He could wax poetic about the ways that Nines has pissed him off in the past, from disregarding direct orders to sassing back as readily as Gavin sasses him. This is no different. This is just another word gone too far, another unheeded order, another instance that ought to highlight how poorly matched they are as coworkers.

 _It’s not, though,_ he thinks dully. Gavin got hurt, and instead of catching the guy responsible Nines stayed with him to make sure he was alright. He did the right thing in the situation, the same thing that Gavin knows he would’ve done if they’d been reversed, and he’s not angry with Nines anymore for doing what he did that night—he’s just disappointed over everything that followed, his own actions included. 

_Then why are you angry now?_ the small voice in his head wonders. _Because he’s here now after leaving you alone? Because he left you alone at all? Because he showed up when you’re unprepared and vulnerable?_

“Why are you here?” he asks instead of answering Nines’ question, and blocks out whatever wayward thoughts his mind might drum up. His nerves start to rise alongside his anger as he thinks of the reasons why Nines could be there after all, and his hand on the countertop clenches into a fist. “I bet Anderson and Connor told you I’m fine.” _They had to, because you couldn’t even make yourself come to see me in the fucking hospital._

“They informed me you were recovering well,” the android says after a moment, “but I wanted to confirm for myself.”

“Yeah, well,” Gavin says irritably, and keeps his eyes down even when he sees Nines moving in his peripherals, “you confirmed it. So you can leave.” 

Nines doesn’t immediately reply but Gavin can feel the tangibility of his body, his presence, far too close for his comfort. He waits for some kind of reply in the quiet but as it drags on he starts to feel childish for his snappy retort, and with every passing second that Nines doesn’t speak Gavin feels a deeper sense of anxiety over the situation, the fact that there’s no one else around. It’s just them, something that Gavin’s slowly become accustomed to over time but now… Now it’s completely, totally different. He doesn’t know where they stand, doesn’t know what Nines is thinking or what he’s doing in his kitchen, tall and immovable but so familiar that it hurts to be near him after going days without him. 

“I think,” Nines murmurs after a hefty silence in which Gavin refuses to look up at him, “I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing,” Gavin replies, not without bite. His ire slowly bleeds out of him though, as he considers just how much _he_ owes Nines after the altercation a few nights ago. If he’d done as Gavin told him or if he hadn’t been there at all, Gavin might not have made it in time to find help or call for backup. 

Shame seeps into his chest, making his next exhale painful and bitter, but he still makes himself mutter, “I never thanked you for what you did.”

“At the time, you were hardly capable,” Nines tells him simply. Idly Gavin wonders what his expression looks like to accompany such a forgiving tone, but he keeps his eyes fixed on his coffee where it sits on the counter, even as the android shifts closer. 

“I am now,” Gavin says, and swallows down his nervousness as it climbs up his throat. “So… thank you. If it wasn’t for you, things could’ve gone a lot differently.”

There, he said it. His pride is still intact, and although his stomach is writhing like a beheaded snake Gavin can admit that there’s a small sense of relief in being openly gracious. Before he can really dwell on the feeling, Nines’ hand gently grips his shoulder and pushes until he’s forced to turn and face him. Gavin’s gaze is drawn up out of habit and his pulse trips at the subtle kindness he sees in his partner’s expression. It’s not a look he’s alien to, having seen Nines use it in delicate situations and with tentative or overwhelmed witnesses, but it’s never once been directed at him. To Gavin, the minute changes in his partner’s features are as distinct as a beaming grin.

“As always, Detective, being your partner is an adventurous pastime,” Nines muses, his lips ticking up at one corner for a quick moment. When Gavin doesn’t immediately reply the moment hangs in the air, full to bursting with all of the things neither of them are saying while Gavin struggles to keep his face impassive, consumed by the feeling of Nines’ hand at his shoulder and the completely captivating way his countenance has lost all traces of professionalism. 

He can’t speak the words that wait on his tongue or fathom the courage necessary to wonder aloud how Nines can feel that way after what happened, after what he said. He flounders for a response, casting around for something to say that doesn’t belie his own attachment to his partner, and his bottom lip catches nervously between his teeth as his mind races with the implications of Nines’ actions. 

Nines didn’t have to show up here. He didn’t have to reply at all to Gavin’s icebreaker apology text, but he did—in a big way. He’s here at Gavin’s fingertips, looking apologetic and genuine, and although he’s a detective Gavin isn’t sure what to do with all the clues being presented to him. 

The buzz of his apartment’s intercom system jerks him out of his indecisiveness, and he looks away from Nines’ open expression with a warm flush on his cheeks. As he pushes away from the counter to head to the intercom in the entryway Nines stops him with a gentle hand on his sternum, and all over again Gavin’s compulsiveness makes him look up into the android’s face. 

“I’ll get it,” Nines murmurs. “Why don’t you sit down for a while?” 

Gavin scoffs, trying to ignore the tingling of his skin where Nines’ fingers are pressed, yet unable to move away. “I’ve been doing nothing _but_ sitting for three damn days. Getting a pizza won’t kill me.”

“Unnecessary strain may worsen your injury,” Nines tells him, but it’s not in the same tone as every other slightly chastising comment Gavin’s received from him. It’s almost a purr, spoken so quietly and accompanied by such a mysteriously intent look that for a moment Gavin forgets to breathe. 

“I—I can’t let you pay for it,” he says a little hoarsely as the buzzer goes off again.

“I insist,” Nines replies, and gives another one of those microscopic smiles before moving swiftly to the entryway. His sudden absence leaves Gavin feeling bereft, but he doesn’t move from his anchorage at the kitchen counter as he listens to Nines admit the pizza guy into the building with the push of a button.

The reminder of the button’s necessity has Gavin frowning, thinking of Nines’ arrival at his door without warning, and before he can edit the words he asks aloud, “Did you hack the front door of my building to get inside?”

“No.” Nines sounds healthily amused. Gavin sets his coffee down and shuffles to the end of the kitchen and around the wall dividing them to scowl at the android. He’s standing by the front door down the short hallway, and at Gavin’s appearance his present smile twitches. “As your partner, the details of your personal file are open to me—things like emergency information, such as the passcode to the front door of your apartment building.”

“This hardly counts as an emergency,” Gavin argues as someone knocks on the front door, but Nines simply shrugs and turns to answer it. As Nines makes a hasty wireless transaction with the android pizza guy, who smiles in a plain but pleasant way, Gavin ruminates on his thoughts. It’s no emergency that brought Nines here, so why was secrecy so important?

It clicks into place as Nines accepts the pizza box from the android, wishing him a nice day and shutting the door. He’s almost certain he knows why, and Gavin barely waits until Nines has reached his side, box in hand, before he blurts, “Why didn’t you want me to know you were coming here?”

Nines sighs, passing Gavin to move into the kitchen and set the pizza down on the stove. Gavin follows him through the archway at a shuffle and when he enters the small kitchen he comes to a slow stop as Nines turns and faces him.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me,” Nines says lengthily, with diamond blue eyes that neither smile nor frown, glimmering in a conflicting range of emotions. “I’ve been purposely ignoring you even when I knew common decency dictated that I visit you in the hospital, even when I knew you’d want to know about the case from me and not someone else.”

Gavin looks down at his socked feet and swallows, holding in the hurt and residual anger from Nines’ neglect. “You had good reason. What I said was… unnecessary.”

“You didn’t deserve to be ignored,” Nines says firmly. When Gavin only lifts a shoulder in a lame approximation of a shrug Nines closes the space between them in a few strides, but once he’s within touching distance of his partner he seems to lose all nerve and simply lingers there, uncertain. “You didn’t, and you still don’t, Gavin.”

 _Gavin._ Hearing his first name catches him off-guard and Gavin’s head snaps up. The single word sends flutters through his gut as Nines looks back at him openly, but even with Nines’ softer, more personable demeanour it’s impossible to ignore the subtle pain that tweaks his heart whenever he thinks of the last few days. 

Gavin frowns, lowering his eyes to fixate on the android’s shirt. Why can’t he just let it go? Nines has shown remorse for what he did and Gavin even apologized for his own behaviour, but despite their reconciliation a tiny fleck of hurt is still lodged in him somewhere, provoking unwanted and unmitigated emotions that he wishes he could smother. 

_Tell me why you wouldn’t come see me,_ Gavin thinks, desperate to speak the words. _Tell me why you’re really here. Tell me what you’re thinking._ But he doesn’t voice his thoughts, too afraid of the answers he’ll get. 

“I guess… you should probably go.”

It’s not at all what he wants to say when he opens his mouth. His tone lacks any and all authority to deliver the dismissive sentence, but Gavin doesn’t take it back. He swallows the hard lump that’s trying to swell in his throat when Nines moves a little closer, slowly but surely crowding Gavin back into the counter. 

With his own breath held he watches the fall of Nines’ chest as he sighs wearily. “Not until I explain myself.” The android pauses, adding in a murmur, “If that’s alright with you.”

A trivial part of Gavin wants to deny Nines that, to be as curt as Nines had been to him after he was injured. _But you know you earned what you got, fair and square,_ something nags at him from the back of his mind, and his indignation deflates as quickly as it appeared. 

“Sure,” he replies, barely a whisper, and clenches his fists at his sides. 

Nines is silent for a moment. “At first, I stayed away because your comment frustrated me. I was sure even as it happened that you didn’t, _couldn’t_ have meant what you said, but…” He pauses again, his broad shoulders shifting restlessly. “I left you out of pettiness, when I knew that you needed me. The longer I waited to contact you the worse I felt at ignoring you, but it wasn’t to hurt or punish you. It was to punish myself.”

Gavin’s frown sharpens into a scowl as he looks up at Nines, only to see his partner looking back with a melancholy expression. “I had… fooled myself into thinking that you’d be angrier at my absence than you would be wounded, and I committed to working the case instead of seeing you. I’m sorry, Gavin,” Nines says, low and heartfelt. 

Gavin can’t look away, entranced by the raw emotion he can see plain as day on Nines’ face. The lump in his throat has become a golf ball but he barely feels it, his mind wiped clean of derisiveness and blame like chalk from a slate while icy blue peers down at him, framed by handsome, symmetrical features and conveying enough affection to make Gavin’s knees wobble. 

Neither of them speak as Nines moves a half-step closer, pressing the boundary of Gavin’s personal bubble and urging him to take a responsive step backward, but his progress is stopped by the counter’s edge digging into his lower back. His hands curl around the lip of the counter reflexively, his breath caught somewhere in his chest as he stares up at Nines and tries to remember how to breathe.

They’re close now, barely a hand’s breadth between them, and Gavin watches the curved tilt of Nines’ brow straighten out into something less mournful and more determined moments before Nines lifts a pale hand and presses his palm to Gavin’s sternum. At the basic touch Gavin’s heart runs wild, thumping erratically under his ribs and unquestionably broadcasting his nervousness to the too-observant android.

“Gavin,” Nines murmurs. His fingertips are gently applying pressure against the thin material of Gavin’s t-shirt, his thumb a maddening back-and-forth stroke against his chest that feels like intent and _change_.

“Yeah?” The word nearly fumbles from his lips but he manages it well enough. 

Nines smiles at him, succinct in movement, elaborate in meaning. “Nothing,” he replies quietly. “I just wanted to say your name.”

Fire floods Gavin’s face, extending all the way to his ears and down his neck. “Oh.” He drags his gaze down to Nines’ mouth, marginally safer than continuing to look into his eyes, but then Nines’ lips quirk with humour and the hand on his chest starts sliding up. 

“Should I go?” Nines whispers, even as his fingertips brush Gavin’s pulse.

He swallows and feels Nines’ fingers glide up his neck as if in slow motion. In the wake of his touch Gavin’s skin is tingling, bright spots of sensation lighting him up, making him brave—brave enough to disregard the many reasons why he should say ‘yes’ to the simple question.

“Stay,” Gavin says in a hush, and he’s grateful when his voice sounds much more confident than he feels. Not that it matters, because by the slight uptick of Nines’ lips Gavin knows he isn’t fooled for a second. His wandering fingers reach the hair behind Gavin’s ear, tickling the sensitive skin there as he cups his hand against Gavin’s stubbled jaw and tilts his face up.

 _He’s going to kiss me,_ is Gavin’s immediate, panicked thought but it’s swiftly overridden by the crash of anxious excitement that sparks inside him. His hands, immobile at his sides, reach up to cling on Nines’ perfectly pressed shirt at the waist, seizing the fabric in shaking fingers that will undoubtedly leave wrinkles, but if Nines minds he doesn’t say so. The android’s head bends, his eyes closing slowly as if he’s loath to stop looking at Gavin for even a moment, and then smiling lips are pressing to his and every single thought in Gavin’s mind screeches to a halt as his eyes fall shut.

The first brush of Nines’ mouth—flawless and smooth, a touch that feels like warm, forgiving marble—overflows with reverent delicacy. He’s tender and purely undemanding even while maneuvering Gavin’s mouth under his, pulling away infinitesimally only to come right back with another gentle kiss. For a breathless moment Gavin’s thankful for his grip on Nines’ shirt as his legs turn to jelly, as every last sensible response is whisked away and replaced with an incoherent craving for _more_. 

Gavin’s world narrows considerably with every touch, shaving his senses away until the only thing he knows is Nines—his mouth, his hands, his breath. He gasps at the nip of blunt, straight teeth against his lower lip and his eyes flutter open when Nines pulls back. The android is studying him, more than likely observing his disarray, and Gavin exhales shakily as Nines’ other hand raises to join the first at his jaw. Perfect synthetic skin drags against his stubble, thumbs idly rubbing over Gavin’s cheeks while his partner looks his fill. 

But that’s all he does. Nines just _looks_ at him, his mouth in a tiny upward slant while crystalline baby blues travel methodically over Gavin’s features, and he feels a shiver run down his back as gentle fingertips start to caress the fuzzy hairs on his nape. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Gavin says roughly. He aims for gruff, disgruntled, but even to his own ears it’s weak at best. 

One of Nines’ dark eyebrows lifts slightly. “Does my staring bother you?”

 _No,_ Gavin’s mind blurts immediately. _You’re just disorienting me with all of this attention and I can barely think when you touch me._ “Yes,” he mumbles without a shred of conviction. “In fact, I… I really hate it.”

Nines smiles at him fondly, as if he’s done something immeasurably endearing. “I see. Then perhaps I should just kiss you instead?”

Gavin swallows, withholding his embarrassing response as Nines bends again. He tilts his face up without the coaxing tug of Nines’ hands and at the press of his mouth Gavin pushes back, moving his lips with purpose against Nines’ and feeling a spiral of giddiness when Nines gives just as good as he gets. 

A thready gasp escapes him when Nines’ tongue prods his mouth, gentle and warm. Gavin barely makes the conscious decision of letting him in before he’s parting his lips and Nines surges into the gap. His big, long-fingered hands have Gavin’s face in a firm cradle that Gavin doesn’t ever want to relinquish, and Nines’ arduously tender kisses make easy work of stoking the sizzling embers under his skin into a full-blown pyre.

Nines doesn’t break step with his mouth when he eases them backward, moving until Gavin’s spine connects lightly with the counter and Nines’ body brushes along his front. Once situated against the ledge, he licks at Gavin’s tongue as readily as Gavin does the same, the human’s hands moving from their harsh grip in the black button-down to press against Nines’ defined chest. Gavin can feel the shift of wiry, muscle-like biocomponents under the artifice of flesh as Nines draws out his gentle sounds, reminding Gavin all over again how screwed he really is when it comes to his partner. 

His arms lift to loop around Nines’ neck, to haul him close and beg him without words to for something he can’t even name, but as Gavin stretches the taut, inflamed skin of his abdomen with the simple motion he hisses out a tense, painful, _“Fuck!”_ and drops his arms quickly. 

Abruptly Nines draws back, stone-like under his touch as his expression oozes concern. “Are you alright, Gavin?” 

“M’fine,” Gavin grumbles while his cheeks bloom with a prickly, embarrassed heat. _Way to kill the mood._ “C’mon, keep going, I’m okay—”

Nines frowns, cupping a hand lightly over Gavin’s wound. Even that basic, platonic touch has his stomach doing cartwheels, but then Nines is lifting his shirt and Gavin’s cartwheeling organs stumble and crash into a heap of anxiety. “Let me see.”

“I said it’s okay,” Gavin mutters, but he obligingly lifts his shirt with a piercing sense of déjà vu reminiscent of three nights ago, after he nearly ruined everything between them. 

Rather than ask Gavin to sit down somewhere Nines kneels on the kitchen floor, gently poking around the bandage as the circle at his temple churns yellow and then back to blue. “You didn’t tear your stitches,” he relays, audibly relieved, and glances up at Gavin with a smile. 

Gavin’s throat clenches with damp emotion but he smiles back. He’s completely unable to help himself with the sudden urge to tousle the prim android, dropping his shirt and reaching to card his fingers through Nines’ perfectly combed hair. Nines chuckles lightly, and Gavin watches him lean forward with unyielding focus to push Gavin’s t-shirt up again and plant a kiss to the bandage over his injury. 

“Oh,” Gavin mumbles, the most timorous he’s ever heard himself. His hands in Nines’ hair are unsteady but he holds on tight, foreseeing his own demise as Nines starts a pattern of lingering, lazy kisses on his stomach. “That, ah—”

“Gavin,” Nines murmurs without pause. “Be quiet.”

He doesn’t even consider arguing. “Sure,” he croaks, biting his lip as Nines’ mouth teases his belly. Initially it’s easy, lighthearted touches near his navel and bandage, but as Nines drops lower and lower, his nose brushing the trimmed wedge of hair above his belt, Gavin can feel his body reacting, reveling in the attention. 

All too soon, after only a moment or two of kisses across his hips and stomach, Nines pulls away reluctantly and gets to his feet. He lowers Gavin’s shirt again, smoothing the cloth under his hands and then resting them easily on the human’s hips. 

Gavin’s hands repurpose themselves by clutching at the front of Nines’ shirt, further distressing its pristineness, and he looks up to meet eyes that smoulder in shades of sky blue. Words fail him for a long time, too many options flying through his mind varying from ridiculous to overwhelming. The more Nines looks at him, longing so plain in his face that Gavin can’t bear to look away and squander the chance to see Nines so happy, the more Gavin feels like his chest will burst from containing the helpless, boundless swell of affection he feels. 

Something from the hospital pings in Gavin’s memory, a topic that they haven’t touched on despite the length of Nines’ visit, and he quirks his mouth into a half-smirk that spurs Nines into curiously curling one eyebrow skyward in reply. 

“What happened during the interrogation for the case?” Gavin asks him, delighted as he watches a blue flush eke across the android’s cheekbones. 

Nines, ever polite, has the decency to duck his head sheepishly when he murmurs, “I broke the suspect’s jaw.”

“You _what_?” Gavin blurts, but before Nines can even respond he’s howling with laughter. “Oh my god, Nines, what the hell for?”

“He made some unsavoury comments about your character,” Nines says tersely. “So I corrected him.”

Gavin’s giggles twinge his side with pain but he can’t stop, too enthralled by the image of Nines defending his honour and slugging a suspect in the face to do so. “That’s it, I’m keeping you,” he wheezes gleefully. “You’re way too fucking ridiculous for anyone else.”

A warm hand curls around Gavin’s neck, drawing his eyes up, and then he’s suddenly unable to laugh. Nines’ expression burns through him like a bushfire, and right before he bends down the android whispers, “I agree.”

His kiss is brief but far from light, and when Nines lifts his head again Gavin can still feel the harsh pressure of his mouth against his lips. A silly grin spreads across his face as Nines straightens, and within seconds Gavin’s gaze has found its way back to the clear pools of blue that gaze right back. 

He doesn’t have the words he wants in his mind, isn’t articulate enough to show what he means with conversation, and if it was anyone else but Nines Gavin would be worried. But by the way Nines looks at him, like he’s finally found something that’s his, something _worth_ having, Gavin knows he’s not alone. Not anymore.


End file.
